December 14th, 1980
Transition to Life in New York
Adjusting not only to a move from an environment that I had spent a decade developing, but also to the unique problems of life in New York City. The pace of life in New York is frantic. The streets are frantic, the subways are frantic, stores, restaurants, traffic possess some hyper urgency that is possible only in Manhattan.
But I know this about New York. This is the drug that lured me to the City in the first place. I have always been in love with the mad urgency of New York City: with the frantic daily scramble of life. It matches the high strung tension of my own inner wires. It is the very essence of creativity and art.
And part of that whole package is the paranoia. The constant threat. New York is a dangerous city to live in. You’ve got to watch your ass every step of the way. Just last week Stanley picked some number up at Ty’s and took him back to his apartment. The trick drugged him and he awoke the next morning with a splitting headache and a wineglass full of white powdery sediment and an apartment that had been cleaned out.
Yes, Virginia, it is different here in New York. You got to hustle your little ass every second of the day and you’ve got to operate a level of energy and defensiveness that can never be relaxed.